An Ode to the Ailing Bourse

Stock up on silver, stock up on gold,
If wealth and fortune you would hold!
Expect no wonders from market news,
Nor blame the exchange for what you lose!

It's getting old, it’s in its years,
Yet lives on leverage, debt, and fears.
Its list of ailments has no end —
What to expect of the bourse, my friend?

Yesterday credit seized its frame,
Its throbbing temples burning hot,
The bank liquidity’s lost game
Left it to gasp upon the spot.

A pleasant day or two may bloom,
With bullish rallies up the hill,
Then weeks of bearish, tedious gloom
Charts sliding downward, slow and still.

Today its coffers groaned and ached,
Sovereign debt has claimed its toll:
In Europe no more jokes are made,
As bond default lists start to roll.

And so the market drains your purse
For margin calls it claims its own.
Just blink — a crash will strike a curse,
And blame the trade on you alone!

Tomorrow brings another day,
Another panic and despair,
Or worse disease along the way...
No patience holds for such an affair!

Stock up on silver, stock up on gold,
If wealth and fortune you would hold!
Flee ticker charts and every trend,
And grudge no bourse, my dear friend!